


Living With My Gay Best Friend

by zouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Internalised Homophobia, M/M, Slut-Shaming, close to stereotyping comments, from harry really, idk about what harry's doing really, idk really, rewritten from tumblr version, there's smut in this in later chapters but there's a lot implied in early ones, tin-hatting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-06 04:20:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zouis/pseuds/zouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn and Louis grew up together, went to school together, and now they're living together. </p><p>  <i>Zayn had his arm wrapped around Louis’ waist, and the older boy was pressed back against him. “Lou, do you ever think that this is like, not normal?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. </i><br/><i>“It’s normal for us.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so i've rewritten this because i think it was shit and i'm really embarrassed by my version on tumblr hahahah but yeah here we go!
> 
> a few of the chapters are going to be merged together so it might be shorter :)

“Zayn, are you sure you want to go through with this?” Trisha said to her son as he packed his last suitcase with his remaining clothes. She traced her fingers over the now empty shelves and bit her lip to stop herself crying. Her baby was growing up. “There’s a big difference between growing up and being best friends to living with one another.” 

“Mum, I’m positive. I’m only moving to London, I’m really not going that far.” He zipped his case up and placed it next to the other one that was already packed and ready. His whole nineteen years of existence fit into two suitcases. Granted, they were actually quite large and they had a fair amount of compartments, but it just felt weird. “I don’t think living with Louis will really change anything either.” 

Trisha nodded and pat her son’s shoulder. “I want you to have fun for me, you hear?” There were tears forming in her eyes and Zayn felt a hint of guilt as he wrapped his arms around her. Her voice was soft in his ear as she whispered on, “and don’t keep that poor boy up all night with a stream of girls you bring back to the house.” 

Zayn laughed, comforted by his mum’s hold around him. “I have to compete with his stream of men, mum, it’s healthy competition.” 

Trisha let out a small noise of protest, squeezing Zayn tighter to her. “I’m going to miss you so much. It’s going to be so quiet now, god.” 

“I’ll miss you too, mum,” he squeezed her again, lifting her up and putting her down. “I love you so much.” 

A car horn sounded from outside and Zayn found himself pulling away from his mother and dragging his suitcases down the stairs of his house. With a sigh, he stepped onto the lawn and made his way to the black porsche that was Louis’ car. 

The older boy enveloped him in a hug and helped him with his bags, packing them into the boot of his car. 

“London, here we come!” Louis said once they were ready to go. He grinned at Zayn and pulled out of the driveway. 

—

The car drive to London was fun, like car trips with Louis always were in Zayn’s eyes. As soon as they’d hit the freeway, Louis had ordered Zayn to plug in his iPod and blare the music. Once that was done and some song from The Killers that Zayn had never really looked into downloading started blaring, Louis rolled down his window and laughed manically. “Now this is music!” He’d screamed out the window, getting a strange look from an elderly couple in the car beside theirs. 

“Hey Lou?” Zayn questioned innocently, turning the music down while turning to face Louis who was by now focusing on the road. 

Louis turned his eyes from directly ahead slightly to look at Zayn. “How can I help you?” He retaliated, a mischievous grin on his face. Zayn thought for a second how nice a photo of Louis in that moment would look, his hair blowing in each and every direction from the force of the wind, and his smile crinkling his eyes. 

“I was just wondering if we should sort out rules. Like, for when I have girls over and you have guys and such, y’know?” He leant his elbow on the door of the car, smiling widely. 

The feathery-haired boy chuckled softly. “Well, how about we text or call each other on that night and the other can be super cautious when coming home?”

Zayn just shrugged and squeezed Louis’ shoulder. “What would I do without you, bro?” 

“Well, you wouldn’t have a job, for one.” He muttered, shooting a wink at his best friend. 

That was true. It was all Louis’ idea to apply for two-semester long teaching assistant positions at one of the London high schools. They’d both tried out for the positions with different class types (Louis being a drama teacher, whereas Zayn was more of an English teacher) with almost no hope of either getting their jobs, let alone both of them.

When they had been confirmed to get the jobs, Louis and Zayn had sat down and figured out how they were going to afford living in London with little money until they started the job. So Louis had talked to his friend who worked in real estate, and managed to secure them a small little flat they would share that wasn’t as far into the city. 

Part of Zayn was glad that he and Louis were getting the flat together, rather than him having to live on his own. He obviously knew he’d eventually have to get his own place, but starting this new part of his life with Louis was all he could ever really hope for. 

Not that he’d ever admit to that.

—

The flat really wasn’t big. That was the first thing they noticed. 

The next was that there was only one bathroom. (“We’ll live,” Louis had said, “we can just share out this space over here and get some of those cloth shelving things they advertise on that infomercial.”) 

The most important thing was that there was only one bedroom, which neither of them had realised. Zayn and Louis had both looked at each other biting their lips at that. The room looked as though it was barely big enough to fit a double bed into, let alone two single beds. Louis though, being the optimist he was blurted out, “It’s not as though we haven’t shared before, Z.” 

Zayn just shrugged and grinned, making his way over to the small wardrobe that the apartment provided and started hanging his clothing up. “Yeah, well we’re still going to need to get another closet in here to fit all our clothes.” 

But then again, it wasn’t as though they’d never shared clothes either, really. 

Actually, in their entire friendship, neither had really known boundaries. They’d always been touching, hugging and together. Not once had they hesitated to stay in the same bed or share a shower— even after Louis had come out of the closet when they were teenagers. Zayn just never saw it as any different between the two of them. 

Louis had even been Zayn’s first kiss (as much as he tried not to consider it, he knew it was his first kiss and he was glad for it). It had just happened one night before the younger had gone out on his first date, asking Louis, “How do you kiss a girl?” Of course the only logical thing to do was for Louis to lean forward and press their lips together. 

It had meant nothing really. 

Louis came up beside him and wrapped his arm around the younger’s waist and rest his head on his shoulder. “I can’t believe this place is ours, Zayn.” He muttered as the taller returned an arm around his shoulders. 

“Neither can I, bro.” He grinned and planted a kiss in Lou’s hair, earning an elbow to the gut. Zayn let out a cry of distaste and muttered, “You’re such a bitch.” 

“Not your bitch, though.” Louis shot back, poking his tongue out and leaving the room with a definite sway of his hips.

The words spun around in Zayn’s head for almost too long a time.

— 

Their apartment was coming along nicely. The walls were now covered in pictures of their families and friends. They’d gone out and purchased a kid’s power rangers mat for the hardwood floor in their lounge room and a plasma screen television to match it. Since leaving Doncaster, they’d had Louis’ old leather couch set driven up and that was now also a proud member of their home. 

The bedroom had a nicely sized double bed displayed in the middle of it, having just squeezed it into the room. Most nights they slept spooning, or with their heads resting on the other’s chest, something they’d always done. It wasn’t weird to them, the heating was fucked in the flat, and they couldn’t afford an electric blanket just yet.

Zayn had his arm wrapped around Louis’ waist, and the older boy was pressed back against him. “Lou, do you ever think that this is like, not normal?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. 

“It’s normal for us,” he turned his head to look back at Zayn. “If you’re worried about the sexuality thing then a, you’re being a dick, and b, you’re being a dick.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Zayn hummed and nuzzled his head into Louis’ neck. “It’s more like, mum asked if we’d decided to get together now we’re in London ‘cause I mentioned the bed.” 

Louis laughed, covering his mouth with his hand. “I could only be so lucky.” 

“That better not be sarcasm,” Zayn teased, nipping Louis’ ear. “I’d be an awesome boyfriend.” 

“Are you implying that you’re a girl?” 

“Oi!” Zayn smacked Louis’ stomach softly. “You know what I meant.” 

Louis yelped and grabbed Zayn’s wrist to stop him from doing it again, “Go to sleep, Zaynekins.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.” Zayn said with a small smile, cuddling closer to Louis. 

“I’ll call you Zayna if you keep going.” 

“Louise.” 

“I’ve used that before in sex, you know.” 

“ _Louis_.”

\--

The following morning was their first proper teaching day at Whiteborough High School. Louis was obviously nervous, tittering around the kitchen in his attempts to cook the two of them a nice enough breakfast.

This resulted in burnt toast and scrambled eggs that were more shell than anything.

Louis had gone for his more dressed up but still casual look, dark skinny jeans and an oversized white jumper, scuffed black and white vans on his feet. Zayn smiled when he saw what Louis was wearing and adjusted the white dress shirt he had on tucked into suit trousers. He thought he looked too professional at first, so he slid on his converse and wore his hair down over his face. 

When Louis saw him he’d let out a long wolf whistle and had said that he looked like a walking wet dream. 

Zayn threw a bottle of conditioner at him.

“You know, when we left school I swore I’d never go back, and now what am I doing?” Louis said with a grin, fixing his tousled hair where ducking from the conditioner had messed it up a little.

Zayn chuckled and brushed a loose strand from his friend’s face, shaking his head slowly. “That was when you had to do science and math. This is just drama all day long; I would’ve thought you’d be ecstatic.” 

Rolling his eyes, Louis swat Zayn upside the head before giving him a hug. “It’s going to be weird sitting on the other side of the desk, though.” 

“Drama rooms don’t even have desks.” 

—

Louis pulled up in the teacher’s parking lot and all but pulled Zayn out of the car. Zayn cursed and rubbed his arm before looking up at the enormous lot of buildings that were Whiteborough High. “Wow.” They muttered in unison before making their way together into the office of the largest building. 

A bored looking woman sat behind a desk and looked up at the two. “You must be Misters Malik and Tomlinson, I presume?” She asked, her voice dripping with the obvious boredom on her face. Zayn thought he saw a flicker of amusement on her face at the tattoos Zayn’s rolled up sleeves showed off.

“That would be correct.” Louis said, leaning onto the desk. 

“Alright, well these are your timetables. Mr Malik, you’ll be mostly in Block B, which are the English rooms, and Mr Tomlinson, you’ll be in the red shed behind that.” A confused look must have shown up on Louis’ face because before long she was continuing. “It’s not actually a shed, it’s a rather large building. It’s just got red tin on the walls all around it, and we’ve always referred to it as a shed. I think that’s all you need, so enjoy.” She ushered Louis and Zayn off before they could even object and went back to whatever it was she was doing before they interrupted her. 

They stood outside for a little while before Zayn had suggested they go find their buildings. “This place is fucking enormous.” Louis said loudly, spinning to look at the buildings. Kids were all around them out there, the girls in skirts with beige stockings and the boys in grey trousers and long sleeve shirts. They made their way over to Block B, and Zayn took note of the red building that was slightly visible behind it. 

“We could die in this place you know. They’d never even find our bodies without getting lost themselves.” Zayn joked before the bell went. “Fuck, this is really happening.” He said softly and turned to Louis. “What do you have?” 

“According to this… Year nine drama, should be fun.” Louis said sarcastically, pursing his lips. “What about you, man?” 

“Year ten English, I’ll see you later on, yeah?” He asked softly before leaning in to press a kiss to his friend’s cheek. 

Louis laughed and rolled his eyes. “Obviously, we live together. You’re also my ride home.” With a smack to Zayn’s bum, Louis was off in the direction of the enormous red shed. 

“I meant at lunch or something, you fuckin’ idiot!” Zayn shouted back before realising he was a _teacher’s assistant_ and should probably be being a role model. He ducked his head and scuttled over to Block B with a red blush on his face.

—

It was the second last period of the day, and Zayn was stuck in a double with year elevens. He grinned as the last boy walked in, a mop of curly hair hanging over his eyes. 

“Alright class, attention here, please!” He called out, gaining their attention instantly. “I’m Zayn Malik, I’m the new teacher’s assistant for English. Basically, I’m going to be taking you for majority of this term alone as Mrs Wolowitz has gone on maternity leave.” A small wave of ‘yes’ rang through the room and Zayn chuckled again. “Don’t be too upset, guys. She’ll be back before you know it!” 

The room laughed with him and Zayn found himself grinning even wider. “Okay, so I thought that today maybe we can do an exercise where you guys tell me a little about yourself, and then you can ask me a question. Should help us get to know each other pretty well.” 

A low murmur spread through the room again, before Zayn pointed to the late boy and ushered him to go first. 

“Uh, I’m Harry Styles. I’m sixteen years old and I work in a record store.” He said slowly, a deep voice escaping his lips. “Anyway, my question for you, Mr Malik,” his lips curved into a smirk, “is; is it true that you and Mr Tomlinson are dating?” 

Zayn’s face contorted with shock, and he looked at the boy who was now looking at him with a cocked eyebrow. “What? No! Where’d you hear that?” 

“From Mr Tomlinson himself, actually. Monica over there was mentioning how she was ‘going to get with’ the hot new English teacher, and he overheard. He went bright red before he was like, ‘You’d better not be talking about the one with the tats, because he’s my boyfriend and has been for years’.” Harry said with a higher pitched impersonation of Louis, shrugging as he finished. 

The so called Monica girl was sitting in her seat looking rather sheepish as Zayn spluttered. “Well, no. He’s not my boyfriend. We’re just really close friends. Now, if you’ll excuse me for just ten minutes.” Zayn said slowly, heading for the door of the room. Oh, Louis was going to pay for this. 

He strolled into the red shed without knocking, seeing the boy in question watching over a group of young-looking students rehearsing for what looked like a small scene of a play. Louis saw Zayn and his face lit up in a grin, which Zayn happily returned, though his was more sinister. “Louis, I can’t believe you!” He said when he got close enough. 

“Take it you heard?” Louis said softly, looking at his feet. 

“Of course I bloody well did! You told a class of year elevens that I’m your boyfriend? Bloody hell, Lou. What even compelled you to do that?” Zayn asked, dragging Louis out of the room and into the cold air of the outside world. 

Louis perked up and rolled his eyes. “That stupid girl said she was going to try and get with you! I didn’t want her to even try so I told them you were gay. I’m sorry!” 

Zayn softened and pulled his best friend into a hug. “I get it, I get it. Thank you… just if there’s a next time; don’t instantly tell them we’re fucking. Just give them a detention. Even if we were that’s none of their business,” he muttered into Lou’s ear, giving it a quick kiss before pulling away. “I’d better get back to class.” He muttered, grinning at Louis. 

“Yeah, me too. Have a fun rest-of-class, Zaynekins.” 

“I told you to stop calling me that,” he said with a scowl, turning back and walking into none other than Harry from his class. 

“I thought you said there was nothing between you and Mr Tommo.” He said with a smirk, his green eyes dancing with mirth. 

“There isn’t anything? Why aren’t you in class?” Zayn questioned, his eyebrow arching. Louis was still behind him, he could feel his friend’s warmth. 

“Walked out,” Harry licked over his lips and looked between the two. “You know, it’s not very common that a heterosexual man just kiss his mates’ ear, Mr Malik. Let alone his gay mate.” 

“That is so wrong I,” he cut himself off, squeezing the bridge of his nose with a sigh, “Where are you getting with this?” Zayn asked, his face scrunching in confusion. 

Harry just laughed. “Nothing, just making it known that I ship it.” He turned and walked away, presumably back to class. Zayn just stood still, trying to work out what on Earth the teen had meant by the mention that he ‘ships’ it. 

What was shipping? Was it some kind of weird teenager thing? Zayn thought he should know considering he was a teenager himself only a few years ago. He made a mental note to google the term when he got home before turning to see Louis was already gone. 

With a sigh, Zayn made his way back to Block B to await the rest of his classes questions.


	2. Chapter 2

Zayn stood before his class, fixing his glasses. He’d been teaching at Whitborough for almost three weeks now. He cleared his throat to gather the attention of his class, and mentally grinned at how easily the attention of the students was grabbed, compared to the rowdy year sevens he’d had the period earlier. 

Harry sat in the front row, the seat he’d taken since the incident outside of the drama rooms. His friend Liam looked nervous beside Harry, constantly darting his eyes from Harry’s almost evil stare to Zayn, who was pointedly ignoring the boy’s looks. 

“Alright, class, as we all know, today is the day of your first exam, which will entail a short story, and some short answer questions on the texts given to you. My advice is to keep the story _concise_ , don’t waste all your time on it.” He leaned back against his desk as he heard the chorus of groans. “Your papers are on your desk, and remember that it’s about the quality of your work. Do your best, so I know where we need to touch up on over the course of this year. Good luck.” 

The room of students instantly put their heads down to their papers, pens jostling down as they started. Harry though, had his hand high in the air. Zayn sighed, “Yes, Harry?” 

“It says here the story can be on anything we wish, is that true?” He asked with a cheeky grin on his face. 

Zayn laughed softly and nodded. “That is the general meaning of the word, yeah. Get to work, mate.” 

—

An hour and a half later, Zayn was collecting the papers from the students and packing them into his bag. He stood up and stretched, hearing a few of his muscles crack softly as he did so, having been hunched over while he marked some of the year eight essays. 

“You know, that’s probably not good for you.” A teasing voice said from behind him. 

Chuckling, Zayn turned and faced Louis, swinging his bag over his shoulder. “Well, neither is the mess you insist we live in, but you don’t hear me complaining.” 

“You complain every day! ‘Louis, pick up your boxers!’, ‘Louis, wash the dishes!’ and my personal favourite, ‘Louis who is this guy passed out on our couch?!’” His roommate joked, imitating Zayn with a high and feminine voice.

“You’re a prick. Plus, that guy was fucking creepy.” 

“He was _brilliant_ in bed, though.” Louis said with a wink, waggling his eyebrows.

Zayn shuddered over-exaggeratedly. “Thanks for that mental image.” He muttered, smiling to show he was just messing with Louis. 

“Not like it’s hard for you to imagine, considering your inability to knock or know me well enough to walk in covering your eyes.” Louis shot back, not sounding the least bit embarrassed as he referenced the amount of times Zayn had caught him in various states of sex. 

The time in question though had been a few nights prior, when Zayn had come home from work on a Friday (or Louis’ day off as they’d come to refer to it) early. He’d shrugged off his jacket and kicked his shoes across the hallway before walking into the lounge room.

“Hey Lou, what are you—oh fuck! Sorry!” Zayn had cried out, walking in on Louis bent over the back of the couch with a rather tall brunette thrusting into him mercilessly. Zayn had panicked, covered his eyes and ran out of the room and into the bedroom, where he’d spent almost all night. 

The memory of that night had Zayn embarrassed, as it had been the first time that they’d had one of those awkward walk-ins since moving in together, which heightened Zayn’s mortification of the matter. 

“Zayn, you’re blushing.” Louis said quickly, pulling Zayn out of his memory and wrapping an arm around his shoulder, tugging him in for a half-hug as he walked him out of the school grounds. 

The younger shook his head, laughing. “It’s not a memory I like to recall, to be honest, mate. At least you were enjoying yourself,” he muttered, grinning as Louis seemed to go slightly red as they approached his Porsche. 

“Just you wait until I walk in on you with a girl, babe. I’m going to embarrass the shit out of you,” Louis countered, slipping into the drivers side. “Actually, come to think of it, you haven’t got with anyone here, yet. Terrible effort, it’s been like, a month?” 

Zayn poked his tongue out as he slipped into the passenger side of Louis’ car. The fact of the matter was that Zayn was way too tired to even start to pick up a girl. He’d gone to nightclubs and such with Louis since moving to London, but his heart had never been in it. The nights always ended with Zayn in a taxi with Louis and some random guy that his best friend had found grinding and making out with Lou, while Zayn apologised to the taxi driver every time a moan was too loud in the confined space. 

“Maybe you just need to keep it in your pants for more than a night.” Zayn shot back, grinning. 

The banter continued as they drove back to their apartment, getting even worse as they finally walked in, before Zayn cut it off mentioning that he had exams to grade. 

“Can I help?” Louis asked excitedly, beaming and pleading with his eyes. 

Zayn shrugged, sitting and relaxing on their couch as he pulled the papers out. “You can read them as I finish with them, tell me if I’m marking them fairly enough,” he said finally, starting on one of the papers belonging to one of the girls in his class. As he read, it became apparent that the story was some kind of fantasy of the girl’s, as she wrote about the persona being singled out by some pop star in one of their concerts and whisked away to marry them, or something. 

It went on like that, Zayn reading story after story of weird pointless things. He totaled three stories involving musicians, one story based on Harry Potter, four about footballers and other sporting stars. and one that was good enough to be a novel about a girl’s vengeance over her boyfriend cheating on her. Most of the other stories were about either action or just weird shit. Louis had a good time picking apart plot holes in most of them, drinking wine as he went, causing his exclamations to grow in stupidity.

When Zayn reached the bottom of the pile, he was met with none other than Harry Styles’ story. With an air of curiosity, he started scanning through until he saw his name and Louis’ name in the same paragraph. He crinkled his forehead and started to read from the beginning…

_‘I’m not in love with him. At least, that’s what I tell myself._  
I tell everyone around me that I’m indeed as straight as they come, and that there was no way I could ever feel that way about a guy.  
That was until Louis came along. Louis. The boy with the striped shirts and bright pants, with hair looking like he just had a hard and rough shag.   
Yes, I, Zayn Malik was smitten for my best friend.’ 

Zayn felt his eyes shoot to the size of saucers, looking over to make sure that Louis wasn’t watching as he read on. 

_‘I decided I’d had enough of waiting one day. It was seven in the morning when I snuck into his room, knowing full well he’d be asleep. He always was._  
That was the thing about Louis though. He could sleep through anything.  
That’s why I decided I was going to do this. I was going to kiss Louis Tomlinson.  
I approached his bed slowly, crawling like an animal on the prowl. I hovered my face inches from his and pressed my lips softly against his softer ones.   
To my surprise, there were suddenly arms on my biceps, holding me in place. A fierce pressure back against my lips told me Louis was awake.  
Then his hands were sliding up my shirt as he pulled it over my head. His mouth de-attached from mine and he started sucking on my collarbones—‘ 

The story cut off after that, and Zayn sat in a state of shock, re-reading the few sentences that Harry had constructed in his mind. Why he wanted more, he didn’t know, but what he did know was that this Styles kid really over-thought a lot of the shit that happened between Zayn and Louis. 

Louis noticed his stillness and cocked an eyebrow. “What’re you reading there, Zayn-y baby?” He asked sweetly, smirking, his voice having the slightest slur to it. 

“I told you not to call me that!” Zayn shot back before blushing softly. “It’s- it’s nothing.” He muttered, attempting to shove Harry’s story back into his bag before Louis could see and probably demand more. 

He wasn’t fast enough though, and before he could protest, Louis was tearing it out of his hands and scanning over the page. There was a mocking gape of his mouth as he read over the sheet of paper. “This kid almost wrote a porno about us!” He cried out, laughing softly. 

Zayn felt himself blushing and looking at his hands. “Yeah, yeah he did.”

“Oh my god, is this the boy that said he ships us? And questioned you kissing my ear?” Louis asked, smirking with mirth dancing in his bright blue eyes. 

“That’s the one. His name’s Harry.” Zayn said, finally looking up at Louis. 

“Ask him for more!” Louis said, smiling, confirming Zayn’s earlier worry.

Zayn cocked his eyebrow, looking over Louis’ face. “You know I’m not going to do that, right?” 

“I want to read more! I want to know how good in bed story-me is,” Louis grinned. “In reality, I’d probably have shoved you off. You have the worst morning breath, Malik, and I am not here for that.” 

Zayn’s response was chucking a pillow at his best friend, hitting him square in the face, and causing him to spill his wine on their couch (to which Zayn made a comment about at the stain not being of Louis’ come for once). 

\--

Harry had given Zayn a knowing look as he walked into the classroom the next day, eyes sparkling with mirth as Zayn handed back his story, to which Harry asked if he’d enjoyed it. 

Zayn merely rolled his eyes and continued on with his teaching. He was kind of creeped out by the teenager, ever since he looked up what ‘shipping’ meant, though he didn’t let it get to him too much. When he’d explained the meaning to Louis, his friend had just burst into tears of laughter, and pressed a sloppy kiss to his cheek.

—

Thank god it was the weekend, and Zayn could finally relax. He sat back on the couch, the Saturday morning cartoons darting across the screen while the cheerful sounds bounced around the room, the smoke of his cigarette swirling near the couch. Louis walked into the room with a towel draped low on his hips, the slight trail of hair running from his bellybutton down below the towel, instantly grabbing the boy’s attention. His eyes followed the hair to Louis’—No! He did not just check his best friend out. 

Ever since that damned story of Harry’s, Zayn couldn’t stop thinking about Louis, or reminiscing on the times they’d kissed when they were kids, drunkenly and not. He could almost still feel the press of the elder’s lips on his own. 

Louis looked over at him with a confused glance and leant down to look for a clean pair of boxers in the laundry pile, muttering complaints about how he was going to reek of smoke. Zayn stole glances at the curves of Louis’ bum. He momentarily wondered what this new-found curiosity meant for his sexuality, which he had always thought was straight (bar the men he would go for regardless - Drake and David Boreanez as Angel). Considering Louis’ rear was almost better than most women’s he knew, though, Zayn put it down to his lack of being touched since moving to London. That explained it. Not to mention that back in high school, most of the guys had thought the blue-eyed boy was actually a girl at first glance from behind, with his shaggy long-ish hair and jeans that clung in all the right places, doubled with the way his waist curved in sinfully and-- 

Fuck, he was over-thinking this. He shook his head of the thoughts and turned back to the television. 

“Hey Zayn?” Louis’ voice rang through the room. 

Zayn turned to his friend and was met with the sight of the naked back of Louis. His bum was on clear display as he pulled on his boxers. “Woah! Give us a warning!” He said quickly, turning away and shielding his eyes pointedly. 

Louis laughed softly and plopped down on the couch. “Ah, sorry babe,” he muttered, “I was just wondering if you wanted to come out tonight?” 

“Depends where you’re going,” Zayn replied, turning his head to face Louis, who was giving him a pleading look. 

“Well, there’s this great new bar in town, and I’ve wanted to go for ages, but I don’t want to go alone in case there are creepy blokes there.” 

“Only because you’re _so_ pretty, I’ll go to protect you.” Zayn (partially) joked, pinching the older boy’s cheek. 

—

“I can’t fucking believe you.” Zayn said as they walked into the bar of ‘Argomant’, where countless men were dancing and grinding in time to the heavy techno beat that was blasting from the speakers. 

“What?” Louis asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes, already heading to the bar area. 

“You brought me to a fucking gay bar!” He said loudly, looking around at the men who were giving him once-overs or winks, a few looking between Zayn and Louis like they were pieces of meat. 

Louis just shrugged and pointed to the main bar. “There, go drink. You might find other straight men who were dragged here by their gay friends. I just needed you to come with me, anyway.” 

Zayn grumbled and made his way over to the large, dark bar, where a tall, curvy woman was serving drinks. “Hello! Always love to see a new face, I’m Jesy.” The girl said, handing him a beer. 

Zayn grinned and took a sip of the alcohol. “My mate dragged me here, but knowing him he’s off with some bloke already.” 

“My girlfriend used to be like that.” Jesy said with a grin, pointing to a petite blonde girl who was weaving her way through the men at the tables near the bar, handing them drinks. 

Zayn shook his head, laughing. “Doubt she dragged you to gay bars when you’re straight, though.” 

“Nobody’s straight for long after coming here, mate, but we do get a lot of straight men just enjoying the place.” The girl joked before turning her attention back to a man with piercing green eyes and blonde hair. 

Zayn shrugged and skulled back his drink, instantly feeling light-headed. He finished five more, and realized that the beer must have been stronger than he’d thought. (He didn’t like to admit he was a complete light-weight). 

He soon found himself moving into the crowd, dancing along to the beats. Suddenly a firm pair of hands gripped his hips and started grinding against him when Zayn didn’t protest to the touch. Zayn couldn’t help but to push his hips back into the person who was definitely shorter than him, wrapping his arm around the stranger’s neck as they moved to the pulsating beat. The fact that he was dancing with another bloke wasn’t all too new to him, especially when he was drunk. 

The man slid his hand down from Zayn’s hip to cup his hardening bulge and Zayn instinctively thrust out to the hand. A familiar laugh filled his ears. “Louis?!” he cried, jumping out of his friend’s grasp and turning to give him a look of shock. 

“Shit, I got you hard, Zayn.” Louis giggled, grinning mischievously. 

“It’s not funny... I thought you might have been...” he trailed off, not knowing how he could possibly end that sentence without it coming across as heterosexual, though Louis knew what he meant. 

Despite this, it sent Louis into another fit of giggles as Zayn face-palmed, groaning. “Fuck this, I’m going home.” He turned and headed to the exit, waving a quick goodbye to Jesy, who winked back at him, obviously having seen his dancing earlier. 

He was surprised to feel Louis come up beside him and lead him to a taxi. “You’re not going home alone like this, babe,” he said to Zayn, before telling the driver the directions to their flat. 

As soon as the Bradford boy walked through the door, he stripped himself down to his boxers and climbed into bed. He waited for Louis to get stripped down before pulling him in beside him and wrapping an arm around his waist, spooning him. 

Zayn fell asleep with his head buried in Louis’ neck, their bodies pressed tight against one another, a small smile on his face. 

—

The next morning, Zayn woke up with a pounding headache, and an incredibly hard cock. His eyes widened as he realized he was still tightly wrapped against Louis and that the older boy could probably feel it. 

It seemed to him that Louis was awake, especially when he felt the playful rolling of Louis’ hips against his. Zayn took in a quick intake of breath, and he heard Louis chuckle. “Is that a torch, or are you just excited to see me?” 

“Shut up, not my fault,” he muttered in response. 

Louis rolled over to face Zayn, a grin on his lips. “I could take care of that for you, if you really wanted.” He offered, giving a half-hearted shrug, nudging his knee against the outline of Zayn in his boxer-briefs. 

Zayn felt his eyes widen comically as he looked over Louis’ face for a sign of a joke. 

There wasn’t one. 

“I—why?” He stammered, biting his lip.

“I don’t want to leave you hanging. It’s clear to me that this was caused as a result of my _incredible_ ass, and there’s only so much wanking that can be done about it before you get the real thing,” Louis countered, giving him a knowing look that reminded him oddly of Harry’s. 

Zayn hesitated, but shook his head, “I can’t ask you to do that.” 

“We kissed when we were little, plus, I kind of want to,” Louis said, grinning. “It’s like I’m living the wet dream of every kid who you teach.

“Gross, don’t say that. Do you expect me to believe that you want to suck your best friend off?” Zayn asked, cocking an eyebrow. “That was just kissing, Lou. Your mouth on my dick is a fuck-load different.” 

“I just want to see how much louder I can get you than that Perrie girl from high school I caught you with,” Louis muttered, already pushing Zayn onto his back slowly. 

Zayn was straining against his boxers, biting his lip hard. “If you _honestly_ want to, and you’re not going to leave me hanging, then fine.” 

Louis grinned, grabbing at the sheets and sliding under them slowly, keeping himself covered. “Pretend I’m a girl, or something, if it helps you,” Louis muttered muffledly, Zayn feeling his hands slide his boxers down his thighs, and then a warm hand at the base of his cock, followed by Louis’ tongue circling the head of it, before he was enveloped in tight heat which had him letting out a choked moan. 

And that’s how Zayn Malik ended up getting one of the best blow-jobs of his life from his closest friend. 

—

“Still not gay,” he mumbled as he came down from his high. Louis had just laughed and swallowed, slapping him lightly on the nose, crawling up from under the covers after tucking Zayn back into his boxers. 

“Nobody said you were, babe. This was still only a one time thing, by the way.” Louis said in return, a hint of snark to his tone which made Zayn feel like he’d somehow offended him. 

Zayn didn’t know why, but the words left a slight hurt feeling in his stomach.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](zerrouis.tumblr.com)


End file.
